


what she really meant was, 'i love you.'

by softksjs



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Bride Fusion, Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Blood and Injury, F/F, Suicidal Thoughts, Super Lightwood Siblings, Temporary Character Death, True Love's Kiss, comedy & angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 06:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14231742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softksjs/pseuds/softksjs
Summary: When Isabelle Lightwood comes back from her time on the sea, she finds out that her girlfriend has been kidnapped and is betrothed to the prince. She must face terrible perils to get her back, determined to reunite with her true love.





	what she really meant was, 'i love you.'

**Author's Note:**

> based loosely on the princess bride movie (there may be some things you don't understand if you haven't watched the movie, but i'm always here if you have questions!)
> 
> pov switches from izzy, alec, magnus, & maia
> 
> tw: both raphael & alec deal with suicidal thoughts (if you need me to post additional tw's on where it happens, i can do that for you)  
> tw: temporary major character death 
> 
> i may have missed something so if there is a tw i forgot to tag, please don't hesitate to tell me!

In the distance, Isabelle sees Maia singing softly to herself as she bustles around the barn, reaching up to grab a bucket. She walks quietly towards the other girl as Maia dances under the big apple tree, holding the bucket protectively in front of her. Maia tilts her head and at the angle she’s at, the sun lights up behind her, blinding Isabelle with both the sun and Maia’s beauty. She trips over her feet and drops the bucket with a clang, Maia turning around swiftly to face her. 

 

“Isabelle!” She springs towards her, bending down to hold the bucket out to Isabelle. “Since you already have the bucket, would you mind milking the cows for me?” 

 

Isabelle ducks her head and she hopes Maia can’t see the light blush on her cheeks. “As you wish.” 

 

Maia’s eyes light up as if everything had finally clicked into place and Isabelle hurriedly takes the bucket from her, on her way to milk the cows. She wonders if that look meant that Maia knew that Isabelle loved her, but at that thought, Isabelle shakes her head. There’s no reason that Maia would ever fraternize with a servant girl.

 

* * *

 

Over the course of the week, Maia keeps giving Isabelle things to do, Isabelle always answering with ‘as you wish.’ Each time Maia would answer back with a smile, giving Isabelle a lingering touch on her arm. There’s one instance where Maia is climbing the ladder, trying to grab something from the highest shelf, but her foot slips and she falls right into Isabelle’s arms. 

 

“I always knew you’d catch me,” she breathes and Isabelle’s eyes widen. She wants to lean down and kiss her until she can’t feel anything but Maia, but instead, she backs up, clearing her throat. 

 

Maia’s face seems to fall at that, but she plasters on a smile, pointing up to the shelf. “Would you mind—?”

 

“As you wish.” She’s just about to climb the ladder when a hand on her arm stops her. She turns and there’s something in Maia’s eyes that makes her pause. They’re standing close—too close. Isabelle wants to be closer.

 

“I love you, too,” Maia whispers and that’s all Isabelle needs to surge forward, bringing their lips together.

 

It’s heaven and hell wrapped up in one; heaven when their lips touch and hell when they have to pull away. When they do finally pull away, they’re breathing heavily, foreheads touching. There’s silence for a moment and then Isabelle breaks out in a smile, arms wrapped around Maia’s waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space between them.

 

* * *

 

“Do you really have to go?” Maia’s voice is soft and she cups Isabelle’s cheek, Isabelle leaning into the touch. 

 

The wind whips around them as if it’s trying to tear them apart; if that happened, Isabelle would fight the fucking wind. She turns her head and plants a kiss on Maia’s palm. The bag slung over her shoulder is heavy, but Isabelle would gladly carry the weight of the world just for Maia.

 

“I wish I didn’t have to, but the sea will be good for me. It’s only for a few years.” 

 

Maia scoffs, dropping her hand from Isabelle’s cheek. Isabelle feels cold without the woman’s touch. “Only a few years. Like that wouldn’t feel like a lifetime.” 

 

Isabelle reaches for Maia’s hand, letting out a sigh of relief when Maia lets her. “Maia, I—”

 

“Come back to me,” Maia cuts her off, her eyes closed in pain. Isabelle doesn’t want to worry her, but she could make a lot of money on this endeavor—enough for them to get married. 

 

“As you wish.” She bows then looks up at Maia under her eyelashes, a small smile on her face. Then she says softly, “I love you.” It was the first time she had ever uttered the words aloud to Maia; the only other person she says it to is her brother, Alec. 

 

Maia opens her eyes, a tear tracing the shape of her cheek. Isabelle straightens up and kisses the tear away, then she walks away, not wanting Maia to see the pain on her own face.

 

* * *

 

Isabelle taps her fingers against the glass in front of her, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the bar. It had been five years since she had been away; she wasn’t sure why she thought that Maia would wait for her, but she had thought there was something special between them. She was wrong. She takes a sip and quirks an eyebrow at the man that slides into the chair across from her.

 

“Alec.” 

 

“The princess has been kidnapped,” he says by way of greeting. 

 

She brings her beer up to her lips, taking a sip, waving a hand in the air. “And I’m supposed to care?” But she did care. Sometimes, she felt like she cared too much. 

 

“You know she doesn’t love Jordan. Besides, she thought you were dead.”

 

She sets the beer down angrily, the drink sloshing over the sides and spilling onto the table. “Thanks, Alec. That makes me feel loads better.” 

 

He reaches out to her, putting his hand gently over hers. “I love you, Izzy. Let me help you find her. You shouldn’t give up on true love.” 

 

“Says the man who hasn’t found his yet.” 

 

He smiles, then raises a finger. “ _ Yet _ .” 

 

At that moment, a man suddenly interrupts them, looking up and down appraisingly at Isabelle. “You’re pretty.”

 

Isabelle looks up at him, eyes cold. “Nice to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

 

The man puts his hand down on the table, leaning towards her. “But you’re not excused. We haven’t seen many pretty girls in here. Maybe I should take you home.” 

 

Alec clenches his hands, but Isabelle holds up a hand to stop him. She stands up and moves closer to the man, forcing a smile on her face. “Is that so?” She reaches up and then slams the man’s head down onto the table, leaning in close to whisper fervently in his ear, “Still want to take me home?” She keeps his head down, then makes her voice loud enough to be heard over the ruckus of the bar. “I am the Dread Pirate Roberts.” The lie comes easily to her; the fake last name coming from Maia. She lets the man go and he groans, holding a hand up to his bleeding head. She just smirks. “And I want some information.” 

 

* * *

 

“I hate you,” Alec groans, legs straining as they climb up the mountain, already a third of the way up. 

 

“Love you, too.” Isabelle’s voice is just as breathless, clenching her jaw to keep from crying out at the pain lancing through her fingers. Their informant had said that they spotted Maia and her kidnappers near this mountain, so of course, Isabelle’s plan had been to climb the mountain. And of course, they had no rope. Maybe she should have put more thought into this, but if she was honest with herself, the thought of Maia being hurt had clouded everything else. She wasn’t sure why Maia hadn’t waited for her—if the woman had really thought she was dead—but that didn’t mean she wanted Maia to be harmed. They were about halfway up now and Isabelle was glad that she and Alec had always been good climbers. If not, they’d probably be dead right now. 

 

“Need a hand?” A voice calls down to them.

 

She sees Alec raise a hand to put it above his eyes to block the sun and then hears him gasp. “No way.”

 

“Who is it?” She tries to look around him, but to no avail. 

 

“Magnus fucking Bane.” 

 

“No way!  _ Magnus Bane  _ kidnapped my girlfriend?”

 

She can almost see Alec’s smirk. “Thought you didn’t care?” 

 

“Shut up,” she mumbles. “I’m worried.” 

 

“I know. But you don’t have to be. They wouldn’t risk hurting her if she’s their leverage.” He then calls up to Magnus, “It’d be nice if you had some rope!”

 

“I do, actually. Would you like me to throw it down?” 

 

Isabelle’s brows furrow. “And why should we trust you? You kidnapped my girlfriend, after all.” 

 

There’s a nervous tone in Magnus’s voice. “Ah, well, that is true, isn’t it?” He clears his throat and there’s a confidence in his next words. “As for the matter of trusting me, you won’t make it up this mountain alive anyway. I’m surprised you’ve made it this far. What have you got to lose?” 

 

“My life, for one,” Alec replies.

 

“My beautiful clothes,” Isabelle says next. 

 

She sees Alec tilt his head. “The taste of good food.” 

 

“You know what I’m losing? My sanity. You want me to throw this rope down or not?” 

 

Alec shrugs—well, as much as he can while climbing a fucking mountain. “Sure, why not?” 

 

With an exasperated sigh, the rope lands next to them with a thump and Alec and Isabelle grab it eagerly, climbing all the way up to the top easily. When they get up there, Magnus is sitting on a rock, legs crossed at the ankles and picking underneath his fingernails with a bored expression. They stand there for a few minutes staring at him until Isabelle finally clears her throat, causing Magnus to raise his head.

 

“There you two are. Knew I recognized you, Alexander Lightwood.” 

 

Alec’s eyes widen, his mouth dropping open a little. “You remember me?” 

 

“Well, of course. We did train together for a while after all.” He rakes his gaze over Alec’s figure, his eyes finally settling on Alec’s own. “Though, your form was always sloppy.” 

 

The awed expression falls off Alec’s face and he crosses his arms, sputtering indignantly, “I was  _ never  _ sloppy.” 

 

Isabelle tilts her head, looking at Alec out of the corner of her eye. “ _ Well _ …” 

 

“Izzy!” 

 

Magnus’s lips settle into an amused smile and he stands up gracefully, hand landing on the hilt of his rapier. At that moment, Isabelle spots a couple of pairs of footprints leading away from Magnus—into the open plains far beyond. She notices Alec staring at them, too, and he nods at her, silently telling her to go. She steps around Magnus—who doesn’t stop her—-his eyes still on Alec. She follows the footprints with a lightness in her step, already one step closer to finding her true love.

 

* * *

 

Someone is watching her, that much Isabelle knows for certain. Huge rocks litter the otherwise empty plain—good hiding spots. Her hand rests lightly on the hilt of her sword and when she passes a rock, she turns quickly, bringing the tip of the sword to rest just under the man’s chin. His hands are held up in surrender and he eyes Isabelle’s sword with something akin to fear.

 

“I’d like to know who’s following me.” Isabelle makes her voice cold.

 

He seems to get over his initial shock because he moves Isabelle’s sword with two fingers, looking almost bored. “Raphael Santiago. I assume you’re here to rescue the princess.” 

 

“And I assume you’re here to kill me.” 

 

A sad smile plays around the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. But as you can see,” he gestures to himself, “I’m not armed so how about you put that sword away.” 

 

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. What’s to stop me from killing you right here?” 

 

“I don’t think you’re the type to kill an unarmed man. So, let’s the even the playing field. We use our fists.” 

 

She moves the sword away from his chin, tilting her head. He was right in the fact that she wouldn’t kill an unarmed man, but then again, she had to find Maia and this was setting her back on time. She grips the sword tight and for one moment she thinks she might do it, but instead, she tosses it a few feet away. Raphael’s eyes seem to widen—as if that wasn’t what he had expected her to do. She moves into a fighting stance, fists held up, determination in her eyes. “Well, let’s get on with it.” 

 

He smirks, moving into a fighting stance as well. And then he throws a punch.

 

* * *

 

Alec ducks as the sword slices through the air, almost taking his head with it. He leaps back, feet light on the ground and protects his side as Magnus’s sword makes a thrust towards it. His body is dripping with sweat, breathing heavy, and he takes a risk by moving his hair out of his eyes. Magnus’s face is stoic, the slight trembling of his hand the only thing showing how tired he truly is. He had been trained by the best, after all.

 

“So,” Alec advances, trying to get a shot in on Magnus’s side, but to no avail, “do you always capture fair maidens?” 

 

Magnus actually smiles, fending off an attack from above easily. “As long as the pay is good. Do you always rescue them?”

 

“Only when they’re the love of my sister’s life.” 

 

Magnus shrugs. “That’s fair.” 

 

There’s something different about this swordfight than all their other ones. Alec had trained with Magnus many times as children and while they had had blunted swords, Alec still didn’t think that was the difference. There seems to be a piece he’s missing—like a puzzle that he just can’t solve. Which is a shame, because he loves to solve puzzles. The sword is held loosely in his left hand, as comfortable as if it had been his right.

 

He smirks. “I have something to tell you.” 

 

Magnus tilts his head. “Hmm, what’s that?” 

 

“I am not left-handed.” The sword slides from his left to his right easily and he leaps forward, attacking faster and quicker. 

 

Magnus doesn’t even flinch, parrying his attack with a bored expression. Then he smirks as well. “I have something to tell you, too.” His sword moves from his left to his right and Alec curses inwardly, finally figuring out what he’s been missing. “I am not left-handed either.” 

 

He disarms Alec easily, Alec’s sword clattering to the ground. Alec raises his hands up, Magnus’s sword shaking slightly under his chin. They stare at each other for a few moments until Alec breaks the silence.

 

“Are you going to kill me, Magnus?” 

 

Magnus’s jaw clenches. “Would you have killed me?” 

 

Alec wants to say ‘no’—that he could never have done something like that—but there was something about Magnus that made it hard to lie to him, so instead, he says, “Honestly? I’m not sure. I would do anything for my sister.” 

 

Something flickers in Magnus’s eyes and his jaw unclenches. “You’re an honorable man, Alexander. It would be a shame to kill you.” 

 

“You’re a man of honor as well. And as much as I enjoy talking to you, if you’re going to kill me, I’d rather you get on with it.” 

 

Magnus’s jaw clenches again and Alec shuts his eyes tightly, expecting to feel pain blossom in his chest. Instead, he feels his cheek stinging and opens his eyes slowly, bringing a hand up to his face. When he pulls his hand away, his fingertips are stained with blood. A scratch on his face. He snaps his gaze to Magnus who is sheathing his sword, deliberately looking anywhere but at Alec. 

 

“You spared me.” He doesn’t bother to hide the awe in his voice.

 

“Yes. I did. Well, we best go after your sister and help her in her quest.” He stalks off, leaving Alec to stare after him. When he notices that Alec isn’t following, he turns his head and with a shake of his head, gestures for Alec to follow him. “Come on.” 

 

After picking up his sword, Alec does, the awed expression still on his face.

 

* * *

 

Raphael groans as he falls to the ground. Isabelle just punches him again. And again—until her knuckles are cracked and bloody. His arms lay useless at his sides, knuckles bloody after he had delivered a punch to her nose. She punches him again and he stifles a whimper; she takes a shaky breath and raises her fist again. 

 

“Please,” he breathes and he sluggishly raises his hand to hold her arm. Isabelle can’t tell if he’s trying to push her away or pull her fist closer. 

 

Her hand shakes in his grip. She’s so close to finding the love of her life; all she has to do is kill him. She clenches her fist so tight that her knuckles turn white. She had never killed a man before. She had watched as other people had, forcing bile down her throat. Even her brother had; he had cried in her arms, hands bloody. It would be so easy to kill him—just a few more punches. 

 

He must see something in her eyes because he nods. “It’s okay.” 

 

But it isn’t okay. She wants to find Maia, but she doesn’t want to lose herself in the process. Finally, after a few seconds, she lets her hand drop, then she pulls him up into a sitting position. She rips off a piece of her sleeve and holds it up to his face, wiping the blood off. 

 

“You didn’t have to—” 

 

“Yes, I did,” she cuts him off, nodding her head. When she gets most of the blood off, she drops the piece of fabric, standing up and grabbing her sword. “I’m going to rescue the love of my life and I hope you won’t stand in my way.” 

 

He shakes his head, getting up to stand on his feet as well, stumbling a bit. “You spared my life when you could’ve ended it. I’m in your debt.” 

 

The corners of her mouth quirk up in a smile. “You don’t owe me anything. I hope we meet again, Raphael Santiago.” She nods at him, then races off to where the last set of footprints are. 

 

When she reaches her destination, she’s greeted by a stone table, a woman sitting on the other end of it. Isabelle takes a quick look around at her surroundings and then she sees her. Her hair is a bit longer than it was the last time Isabelle had seen the woman and her eyes are covered with a blindfold, but it’s still her Maia. She’s captivated by her lips—the curve of them. Five years had been a long time to go without one of Maia’s kisses. She takes a step closer to Maia, but the sound of a throat clearing alerts her to the other woman’s presence. She regards the woman coolly, sitting down on a boulder, her sword resting on her lap.

 

Isabelle makes her voice deeper. She doesn’t want Maia to know who she is—not just yet. “I am the Dread Pirate Roberts. You are?” 

 

The woman’s voice is icy, but with a hint of humor—as if there’s something she knows that you don’t and she’s dying to tell you. “Camille Belcourt. You must be very brave to cross me. Or very foolish.” 

 

Isabelle smirks. “Some people like to say I’m both. Regarding the table, I’m assuming we’re not having a swordfight.” 

 

“Oh, not at all. You see, my specialty is the battle of the wits.” Camille leans down and brings forth two goblets. “I’m going to put poison in one of the goblets. Your job is to tell me which one holds the poison. Then, we will drink. If you are correct, you may do whatever you wish with the princess for I’ll be dead. And when I win, well,  _ you’ll  _ be dead.” 

 

“You seem very sure of yourself. It’s not a good look on you.” 

 

Maia snorts and Camille just curls her lip. She turns her back and when she turns back to Isabelle, she sets one goblet in front of her and the other in front of Isabelle. “Let us begin.” 

 

Isabelle takes the goblet before her and sniffs it. Then she reaches over and takes the other goblet, giving it a sniff as well. There’s one that smells sweeter, but a sickly kind of sweet. After one more sniff, she knows which one holds the poison and she takes the other, sliding the poisoned goblet over to Camille. They stare each other down and then bring their goblets up to their lips. It’s not even a minute before Camille keels over, the goblet clattering to the ground with a clang. 

 

Isabelle sets her goblet down. “Told her it wasn’t a good look.” She stands up and makes her way over to Maia, the blindfold still covering the woman’s eyes. She undoes the rope around the woman’s hands, but keeps them tightly secured in her own so as to not let Maia run off.

 

“You’re a pirate.” 

 

Isabelle nods, forgetting for a moment that Maia cannot see her. “Yes. And you are a princess. I’m sure you must be dying to get back to your love.” 

 

Maia scoffs. “ _ Dying  _ seems like a good word for it.” 

 

Isabelle doesn’t know why that sets a fire alight in her belly, but she grows angry, and her voice goes cold. “Really? So why marry him at all? I’m sure you could have anyone you desired.” 

 

“I did have someone,” Maia’s voice goes sad and Isabelle’s eyes soften, “she was all I ever wanted. And people like  _ you  _ took her away from me. Now, she’s dead. You can die, too, for all I care.” She wrenches her hands away from Isabelle’s grip, then pushes her down the hill.

 

“As you wish!” Isabelle shouts as she rolls down the hill and she can faintly hear Maia breathe her name. When she gets to the bottom, Maia lands on top of her, blindfold moved down and they stare into each other’s eyes. Isabelle reaches a hand up to cup Maia’s cheek and the woman sobs, burying her face in Isabelle’s chest.

 

“How—” Her voice trembles and she takes a shaky breath, hands gripping Isabelle’s hips to pull her closer. 

 

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Isabelle cuts her off, a pang in her heart.

 

Maia pulls back to look into Isabelle’s eyes, shrugging sheepishly. “Well, you were dead.” 

 

Isabelle laughs, cupping the back of Maia’s neck and pulling her close, kissing her deeply. She can feel Maia sigh against her lips—those beautiful lips. When they pull back, they’re breathing heavy and Maia rests her forehead against Isabelle’s. “Death cannot stop true love. Only delay it for a while.” 

 

They kiss again until the sound of footsteps causes Isabelle to pull away; she moves into a sitting position and sees Alec with Magnus and Raphael in tow. Alec seems unharmed except for a scratch on his cheek and she breathes a sigh of relief. At the sight of her holding Maia, he smiles.

 

“I see you found your true love.” 

 

She smiles as well, standing up and pulling Maia up with her. “Yes, I did.” She nods to Magnus. “Can we trust him?” 

 

She doesn’t miss the way Alec steps closer to Magnus, but at the sound of his voice, she snaps her gaze to him. “He spared my life. I trust him.” She sees the look Alec gives Magnus and bites back a knowing smirk. Maybe she wasn’t the only one to have found her true love. She opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of a horse neighing stops her. She turns to look at Maia and the woman stares at her with fear in her eyes. Apparently, Maia’s betrothed was closer than they thought. She eyes her surroundings, her gaze finally landing on a forest. She had heard stories about it—how it was haunted—how the ground spewed fire. They didn’t have any other choice, though. She nods her head to the forest and they race towards it, not daring to look back. 

 

* * *

 

They make it past the quicksand and the fire easily enough, almost close to being out of the forest. If Isabelle squints hard enough, she can see a little sunlight peeking through the dense cover of trees, indicating that it’s not long before they can be out of the suffocating feeling of the forest. Alec and Magnus are in the front, Maia and Isabelle in the middle, and Raphael bringing up the rear. 

 

Magnus doesn’t spare them a glance, just says, “Quit dragging your feet; we’re almost there!” 

 

Maia tilts her head, then moves forward to tap Magnus’s shoulder. “What about the R.O.U.S.’s?” 

 

Magnus turns his head to look at her, furrowing his eyebrows. “The rodents of unusual size?” He shrugs, then continues, “I don’t think they exist.” He turns back to face the front, then screams when something leaps at his face. He falls backward to the ground, knocking Alec over in the process. Isabelle rushes forward to help, but a chittering noise stops her and she raises her sword as another rodent leaps at her as well. 

 

“Alexander,” Magnus grunts, arms shaking as he pries open the rodent’s mouth. “Grab the dagger in my boot.” 

 

Alec does as he’s told, bringing the knife up to stab it in the rodent’s back, wincing when the creature squeals. He pushes the rodent off of Magnus with his boot, then spins around as another creature makes its presence known. 

 

“Raphael,” Isabelle shouts, struggling with a gigantic rodent, nodding her head to Maia who is backed up against a tree, a rodent hissing at her. Raphael races over there, stabbing the creature in the back, making a disgusted face at it. They all gather into the center of the clearing, Maia in the middle, while the others make a circle around her. Alec reaches back and passes Maia a dagger who grips it tightly. Alec sends a look to Isabelle who nods back, already knowing what Alec’s plan is. He leaps forward and whistles, causing all the rodents to snap their gaze to him. While the rodents are distracted, Isabelle grabs Maia’s hand and pulls her towards the exit, leaving Magnus, Raphael, and Alec to take care of the rodents. 

 

They break free of the forest and then slide to a halt when they’re faced with about a dozen horses. One is taller than the other and Isabelle rakes her gaze over the man sitting atop it. His crown sparkles in the sunlight, blinding Isabelle. She squints and then she gets a good look at him. His long hair is slicked back and his eyes are cold. He regards the both of them with a bored expression. 

 

“Maia. How lovely to see you.”

 

Isabelle sneers at him, raising her sword to point it at the man who she assumes is Jordan. He looks down at it with nothing but contempt. “Surrender,” he says plainly.

 

“You wish to surrender to me?” Isabelle shrugs. “Very well, I accept.” 

 

He grips the reins tight, knuckles turning white. “Surrender!” 

 

“Death first!” 

 

“No!” Maia stands between them, hand on Isabelle’s chest to hold her back. 

 

“Maia—” Isabelle starts to say, but Maia just presses her hand more insistently on Isabelle’s chest. 

 

“ _ No _ . I just got you back and I am not letting you get yourself killed. This is my choice.” She turns towards Jordan. “If I go with you, will you promise me that Isabelle will be safe?” 

 

Jordan rolls his eyes. “I give you my word. In fact, I’ll even make sure she gets on a boat safely.” 

 

Maia turns back to Isabelle, who just shakes her head. “Maia,  _ please _ .” 

 

“You don’t understand the grief I felt when I thought you were dead. I can’t—” Maia takes a shaky breath, “I can’t go through that again.” 

 

Isabelle just nods, clasping her hands behind her back. “I understand.” 

 

Maia steps towards her, bringing up a hand to cup Isabelle’s cheek. Slowly, she presses her lips to the other woman’s, Isabelle sighing softly into the kiss. “Please, live for me,” Maia murmurs against Isabelle’s lips.

 

“As you wish.” 

 

When Magnus, Alec, and Raphael leave the forest, they’re greeted by nothing for Isabelle and Maia are on their way to the same destination even though they would be apart. 

 

* * *

 

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Magnus sighs, kicking a stray rock. He looks at Alec out of the corner of his eye who has been pacing for a couple of minutes now. He feels  _ something  _ in his chest—an ache. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything like that.

 

“No kidding,” Alec scoffs, finally stopping to look up at the sky, closing his eyes. After a couple of seconds, he snaps them open, then stalks off in the direction where the hoofprints lead. When he gets a couple of paces away, he stops and turns his head to look at them. “You don’t have to come. I won’t blame you. I’m sure it’s about to get nasty.” 

 

Raphael shrugs and turns to walk away from the pair of them, but Magnus stops him with a hand on his arm, glaring at him. Raphael just throws his hands up. “I’m kidding; I’m kidding!” He turns to look at Alec. “Your sister did spare my life. Now, I’ll help save hers.” 

 

Alec’s mouth quirks up in a smile and then his eyes slide over to Magnus. Magnus smiles back. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to need me—especially if you’re planning on doing what I think you’re doing. No one knows the palace better than me.” 

 

Alec raises an eyebrow, but then gestures for Magnus to go ahead which he does, Alec and Raphael trailing behind. 

 

* * *

 

Isabelle gasps and opens her eyes, trying to move, but finding that she can’t. She looks down as much as she can and finds that her hands and legs have been tied onto some kind of platform. She tilts her head, pursing her lips. “Well, that’s unfortunate.” 

 

“It’s fortunate for me.” 

 

She turns her head to the left to see Jordan smirking at her, twirling a knife between his fingers. She regards him with disdain. “I knew you wouldn’t let me live.” 

 

His smirk grows wider and he uses the knife to point towards her. “Correct you are, Lightwood.” At her look of confusion, his expression turns into a gleeful smile. “Oh, you didn’t know? I’ve known who you are for a long time.”

 

Isabelle doesn’t have time to worry about that now. Actually, she doesn’t have time for anything because in a few minutes, she’ll be dead. She shakes her head to rid herself of that thought. She has to live—for herself, for Alec, and for Maia. She raises her head and sneers at Jordan, “My brother will come find me. And when I get out of here, I’m going to kill you.” 

 

“I’m not the one dying today. You are. And Maia is.” 

 

Isabelle leans her head back against the platform, shaking her head, whispering, “No.” 

 

He leans down towards her, his other hand coming to touch her cheek. She flinches away. “You should see the fear in your eyes—the pain. I haven’t seen that look since I told Maia you were dead.” 

 

“You—” 

 

He nods. “Yes. Me. Honestly, I didn’t expect her to believe me; it was almost too easy. And now, when I kill her tonight, I’ll blame it on a neighboring country. And there’ll be war. And blood.” 

 

Isabelle raises her head, then she spits at him, “You won’t get away with this.” 

 

“But I already have.” He reaches behind her and at the click of a button, she screams, the platform suddenly becoming hot to the touch. Her eyes are shut tightly in pain, hands clenched. There’s a darkness closing in and she fights it. She has to fight for Maia—she has to—what did she have to do? The darkness that had seemed so terrifying now seems peaceful; she wants to float towards it. She forgets her name—everything. All that matters is the darkness surrounding her. She lets herself go towards it.

 

* * *

 

“It’s around here somewhere,” Magnus mutters, his fingertips gliding over the rough tree bark as he searches for the impression in the tree. A few seconds and he exclaims, “Aha!” At the press of his hand, the stone boulder next to them opens up to reveal a staircase spiraling down. They run down it, sliding to a stop at the sight of Isabelle lying on the stone platform.

 

Alec slowly walks towards it, hands held out as if he doesn’t know what to do with them. When he gets to his sister, he sinks down to the ground, his hand shaking as it touches her face. “Izzy?” 

 

There’s no response except an overwhelming silence. Then there’s sobbing. Alec leans down to rest his forehead against the side of the stone platform, hand clutching Isabelle’s face tightly, tears streaking down his face. Magnus’s heart goes out to him. He, too, had known death. Next to him, Raphael’s head is down, eyes closed, then he reaches up a hand to do the sign of the cross. Magnus goes to stand next to Alec and without thinking, he presses two fingers against Isabelle’s pulse point. He feels nothing. And then—

 

“Alexander,” He says with a gasp. Alec doesn’t hear him or if he does, he pretends not to. His head is still lying on the platform, his other hand clenched into a fist so tight that Magnus sees blood. He feels bad, but he moves forward to shake the man’s shoulder roughly. 

 

Finally, Alec raises his head slowly, the skin around his eyes puffy. “What,” he says hoarsely.

 

“Your sister is not dead. Not yet, anyway. Help me get her up.” He gets the dagger out of his boot and cuts the ropes tying Isabelle. Alec rushes forward to carry her in his arms; when they get out of the underground chamber, Magnus turns to them. “I know someone we can take her to. Come on.” 

 

They get to Catarina’s in a manner of minutes, Magnus knocking insistently on the door. It opens to reveal a dark-skinned black woman, long, dark hair pulled back into a braid. She smiles at the sight of him. “Magnus!” 

 

“Hello, Catarina.” 

 

She frowns at the tone of his voice and then she spies Raphael and Alec behind with Isabelle in his arms. She stares at Magnus for a few moments then sighs, opening the door wider. “Come right on in.” When they get through the door, she pulls Magnus aside, hissing in his ear, “Magnus, what the hell are you doing bringing a dead woman to my doorstep?” 

 

“She’s not dead. Catarina, it’s the same as Ragnor. Her soul is lost. It just needs to be found.” 

 

Catarina sighs, then makes her way to the counter in the corner of the house that is piled high with all sorts of things in potion-making. “Sometimes, I think I love you too much.” 

 

Magnus bites back a smile. “Or not enough.” 

 

As she begins to grind some things for the potion, Magnus steps over to Alec, putting a hand gently on his shoulder. Alec turns his head slightly to give him a weak smile. “I don’t know what I’d do if—” Magnus sees him bite his lip and then Alec looks away. He squeezes the man’s shoulder in comfort. Alec sighs and then turns to face him fully, his right thumb digging into his left palm. “If this—if this doesn’t work, I’m still going to storm the castle. I’ll still try to save Maia.” 

 

There’s something unspoken hidden in Alec’s words and it doesn’t even take a second for Magnus to register it. “But you’ll do too much. You’ll get yourself killed.” Alec closes his eyes tightly, turning his head away from Magnus. Magnus takes a deep breath, raising his arms to hug himself. “Are you afraid of dying, Alexander?” 

 

“I don’t know. I’ve never died. I’ve gotten close, though. It was always a mix of peace and pain. Maybe, finally, I’ll just have some peace.” 

 

“Alexander—” But before Magnus can say anything else, Catarina comes between them, carrying a dark purple colored potion. 

 

Alec turns to Catarina, his expression turning hopeful. “Is it ready?” 

 

“Almost.” She reaches up and yanks a piece of hair out from the top of his head, making Alec yelp. “Now, all I need is a fond memory between the two of you and the potion will be activated.” 

 

Alec kneels down next to his sister, brushing her hair back. “I was thirteen. We had been playing outside when Izzy had fallen and scratched her leg badly. After I had finished bandaging her leg, she had made some comment about how my future wife was going to have to do that for me. And I—I froze. And then I told her—that I was gay.” Alec takes a shuddering breath, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “She hugged me so tightly that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to breathe. Not even a year later, she told me that she was interested in girls and I gave her that same tight hug. And we cried and we laughed.” He blinks the tears out of his eyes. “Anyway, that’s my fondest memory.” 

 

Catarina lets the lock of hair fall into the potion and it turns a shimmering blue. “It’s ready.” She gently pushes Alec out of the way and grabs the back of Izzy’s head, opening her mouth and pouring the potion down it. For a second nothing happens, then Izzy’s chest is rising and falling, though her eyes are still closed. Alec lets out a sob of relief, rushing forward to wrap Catarina in a hug. She just pats him on the back. “Yes, yes, you’re welcome. She should wake up fully in about an hour.”

 

Magnus smiles as he hears Alec softly whisper in Catarina’s ear, “Thank you.” 

 

They thank Catarina profusely as they leave her home, on their way to sneak into the castle. They get in there easily enough—most of the people in the grand hall for the wedding. As they walk down the hallway, Magnus reflects on how the palace seems both strange and familiar. He remembers running down these hallways as a child, chasing after his father. A memory comes into the forefront of his mind as if it had been yesterday.

 

“I want to be just like you, papa!” Had his voice always sounded that small? He had been so young—so naive. 

 

His father would just turn his head, giving him a smile. “You will be, my boy. I promise.” 

 

He shakes his head to rid himself of the memory. He knows what comes next. He doesn’t want to relive it right now. They pass one more hallway and at the sound of footsteps, he grabs Alec and Raphael’s arms, pulling them back so they don’t get caught. He waits until there’s nothing but silence, then peeks his head out, letting out a sigh of relief when no one’s there. “When the wedding is over, he should take the princess to that room right there.” He points to the last door at the end of the hallway and Alexander makes his way toward it, the still unconscious Isabelle leaning on him for support. 

 

Then he stops, turning towards Magnus. His voice is soft as he says, “Thank you. You’ve helped my sister and me when you had no reason to.” He bites his lip, then continues, “I owe you. Name your price. Anything you want.” 

 

Magnus’s eyes widen and he slowly reaches out a hand to set it on Alec’s arm. “What I  _ want  _ is for you to stay alive.” 

 

The corners of Alec’s mouth quirk up into a small smile. “That might be hard to achieve.” 

 

“Alexander—” Magnus takes a shaky breath, but the smile falls off Alec’s face and he moves closer. 

 

“I’m kidding,” It’s Alec turn to take a deep breath and he continues, “I know I said some pretty intense things back at Catarina’s and I’m not going to brush them off and act like my life doesn’t matter. It does. It’s just—all my life, I was supposed to fight for these causes. Die for them, even. It was so ingrained in me that the concept of death just seemed like an everyday thing. I never knew there was something I could  _ live  _ for. Until now. Until you.” 

 

There’s silence for a moment and out of the corner of his eye he sees Raphael twitch nervously beside him. Magnus isn’t sure if it’s because he’s unintentionally intruding on a private moment or if it’s because he’s anxious about getting caught. Maybe a mix of both. Alec must notice it, too, for he says quickly, “If I do die, there’s something I’d like to do first.” 

 

He locks his gaze onto Magnus’s eyes then leans forward until their lips are inches apart, giving Magnus space to pull away if he wishes. But Magnus doesn’t wish that. He closes the gap, sighing softly as his lips make contact with Alec’s. It’s not a desperate, heat of the moment kiss, but rather a ‘see you later’ kiss. But anyway, whatever kind of kiss it is, it’s glorious and it hurts Magnus to pull away. 

 

“Knew it,” a voice says breathlessly and Magnus smiles as Isabelle’s eyes flutter open, a smirk on her lips.

 

Alec laughs, hugging her tightly. “Of course you’d come back to life just to comment on my love life.” 

 

“You know me so well. Now, let’s go deal with  _ my _ love life.” 

 

“As you wish,” Alec says mockingly, then his eyes flick to Magnus. He nods at the man, silently telling Alec that it was okay. 

 

“You go battle your demons. I’ll go battle mine.” 

 

Alec smiles softly and nods back, then he and Isabelle make their way down the hallway while Magnus and Raphael turn and go in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

Jordan’s grip is tight on Maia’s arm as he yanks her down the hallway. Her hands are clenched so tight that she’s surprised she hasn’t started bleeding yet. He had forced her to marry him—forced her to kiss his lips. She had wanted to gag at the taste of them. 

 

Without thinking, she asks, “Where’s Isabelle? Did she get on the boat safely?” 

 

“What?” He asks irritability as if he had no clue what she was talking about.

 

A chill runs down her spine. There was no boat. Isabelle was dead or she was going to be. God, she had been so foolish. She sucks in a breath and she tries to free herself from his grip, but his hand is wrapped so tight around her arm that her tawny skin was turning white under his fingers. He opens a door, then pushes her into a room, closing and locking it as soon as she gets in. She can’t see anything through her tears and she sinks down onto the vanity chair, raising a fist to punch the glass before her. A hand stops her.

 

“I’m here, my love.” 

 

She blinks away her tears, letting out a sob of relief as she recognizes the face before her. “Isabelle? I thought you were—” She hugs the woman tightly, burying her face in the crook of Isabelle’s neck. 

 

Isabelle hugs back just as tightly, her hands running up and down Maia’s back in a comforting manner. “It’s like I said before. Death cannot stop true love.” 

 

Maia pulls back, squinting at her. “So, you did die?” 

 

“Uh, sort of?” Isabelle raises a hand to rub the back of her neck sheepishly. “Magnus could probably explain it better.” 

 

Maia’s eyes flick behind her. “Speaking of Magnus, where is everyone?” 

 

“Magnus had something he needed to take care of. I told Alec it was okay if he wanted to go help him.  _ My  _ job is getting you out of here.” She grabs Maia’s hand and pulls her up, Maia letting her. When they turn to the door, they see it open and Jordan leaning on the doorframe. 

 

“You two aren’t going anywhere.” His eyes slide over to Isabelle. “Didn’t I kill you?” 

 

Isabelle is furious; Maia can feel her shaking in anger next to her. When Isabelle speaks, her voice is icy. “You certainly tried.” 

 

Jordan smirks and steps forward into the room, unsheathing the sword by his side. “Guess I’ll just have to try a little harder.” 

 

Though Isabelle looks confident as she pulls out her sword, Maia can feel the woman slightly shaking as if her strength wasn’t completely up yet. In a matter of seconds, she makes her decision and pulls out the dagger hidden in her boot. Isabelle widens her eyes and then she smiles, nodding at Maia. They would fight together and if they did die, they would do that together, too. They face Jordan with anger in their eyes, weapons raised.

 

* * *

 

Magnus raises his hand and knocks on the door, trying desperately to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. How many years had it been? Over twenty, by now. There’s no answer and his fist shakes in anger. Knowing his father, he was probably so wrapped up in his work that he wasn’t paying attention to anything. He had thought it was noble when he was younger—how utterly wrong he had been. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raphael bite his lip and it doesn’t surprise him when the younger man says his name. 

 

“Magnus—”

 

Magnus stops him by raising two fingers, turning his head slightly to stare into Raphael’s eyes. “Raphael, you know better than to try to talk me out of this.” 

 

“I would never do that.” Raphael shakes his head. “I know how important this is to you. I just wanted to tell you to be careful—don’t let him get inside your head.” 

 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Magnus mutters, then he bangs his fist against the door loudly, enough for it to echo down the hallway.

 

“Enter.” He suppresses a shudder at the sound of his father’s voice and his hand slowly makes its way to the doorknob, twisting it open and pushing inside. He inhales sharply, his eyes quickly darting around the room. It was the exact same, not a thing out of place. His father is sitting in his desk chair, bent down over a piece of paper, a quill held loosely in his right hand. “State your name and business,” he says as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

 

“Magnus Bane.” He feels glee at the shock on his father’s face when his head snaps up. “And I’m here to fucking kill you.” 

 

The quill falls down onto the desk as his father shoots up, circling around the desk to stand in front of Magnus. “Magnus—my boy. It’s been so long. I’ve been so worried.” 

 

“Quit playing your games,” Magnus spits out, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword. “You never gave a shit about me.” 

 

The expression on his father’s face turns hard and cold—as if he was a statue. “You’re right. So, am I to be afraid of you? You stalk in here and act like you’re all tough. But I know the truth. I know how  _ weak _ you are. You always did favor your mother—”

 

Magnus surges forward, wrapping his hand around his father’s throat and caging him in against the desk. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ talk about her.” 

 

His father smiles gleefully, not even looking terrified at the fact that Magnus could kill him right then. “So, that’s what this is about. Are you  _ really _ still harboring a grudge for that? Oh, Magnus. How much I still have to teach you.” 

 

“I have nothing more to learn from you. You taught me all I needed to know at the age of eleven.” He lets his hand drop from his father’s throat. When he killed him, he wanted it to be on the edge of a sword, as his father had done his mother. He backs up, unsheathing his sword and letting it dangle at his side. “Get your sword,” he spits venomously, forcing his hands not to shake in anger. 

 

His father does as he’s told, picking up his sword that had been lying on his desk. He unsheathes it, regarding Magnus with nothing but a bored expression. “Remember, that I was the one who taught you how to hold a blade in the first place. You’re being foolish, Magnus.” 

 

Maybe he was. But right now, Magnus didn’t give a fuck. He lets out a shout as his sword makes contact with his father’s, a screech sounding throughout the room as the blades slide against each other.

 

* * *

 

Isabelle leans against the bed as she takes a breath, almost not blocking a thrust from Jordan in time. Fortunately, Maia is there to help her, distracting Jordan so Isabelle can take a short break. She lets herself have one more second before she grips her sword tight, advancing on Jordan and smirking when she gets a cut in on his side. It’s Maia’s turn to take a break and Isabelle spares her a glance—there’s a scratch on her arm and she’s breathing heavily, but she’s alive and that’s all that matters. She’s so distracted by Maia that she doesn’t notice the sword piercing her stomach. She gasps and instinctively presses her hand against the wound—it doesn’t stop the blood welling up between her fingers. It doesn’t stop her falling onto the floor. Was she really going to have to fucking die again?

 

Maia collapses next to her, cradling Isabelle’s head in her lap. “Izzy—Isabelle. No—”

 

Isabelle’s hand shakes as it makes its way to Maia’s face, cupping her cheek gently. “Hey, it’s okay.” She winces and her hand drops; Maia takes it into her own. 

 

“You’re not fucking leaving me. God, Isabelle. I  _ love  _ you. Ever since that night we snuck out to climb all the way to the top of the barn just to watch the stars.” A tear falls onto Isabelle’s cheek and she isn’t sure if it’s hers or Maia’s. “I don’t know if you know, but I wanted to kiss you that night. You wanted to kiss me, too. I could see it in your eyes. Would things have changed if we hadn’t been so afraid that night?” 

 

“Maybe.” Isabelle’s voice is so soft and weak. 

 

Maia’s breath hitches and then she bends down to capture Isabelle’s lips in a heated kiss. Isabelle gasps into it, the pain from her wound slowly starting to fade away. She isn’t sure if it’s a good or bad thing, but she doesn’t care. They pull away and Isabelle brings the hand that she had used to press against her wound up to her face. There was no trace of blood. In fact, there was no sign that she had even been stabbed at all. 

 

“I always knew your kisses were magical,” she breathes and Maia punches her lightly on the arm.

 

“Shut up, you beautiful woman.” 

 

“Did you two, like, forget I’m here?” They turn to see Jordan leaning against the bed frame, rolling his eyes.

 

“Nothing personal,” Isabelle shrugs, “just for plot reasons.” 

 

With another roll of the eyes, Jordan stands tall, towering over them. “Any last words?”

 

Maia stands up, ignoring Isabelle’s protests. “Actually, I have five.” She strikes fast, the dagger landing in Jordan’s heart. “Go to hell, asshole.” 

 

“That’s actually four,” Isabelle instinctively corrects her with a smile, staring up at Maia in awe.

 

* * *

 

Alec slides to a halt in front of the door, his eyebrows raising slightly at Raphael standing before it. He hears a thump and goes to open the door, but Raphael moves in front of him, blocking the way. He glares at him, trying to ignore the way his chest aches at the sound of another thump. “Let me through.” 

 

“No.” There’s a slight tremor in Raphael’s voice as if all he wants to do is let Alec through.

 

Alec’s blood runs cold as someone inside the room shouts. “He could be dying!” 

 

“You think I don’t know that,” Raphael hisses and Alec lets some of the tension in his shoulders bleed out. “I’ve known Magnus far longer than you have and this is something he wants to do on his own. That he  _ needs  _ to do.” His eyes soften. “I understand that you’re worried. So am I. It is killing me to be here on this side of the door—not knowing if he needs help. But I am doing it because it’s what Magnus wants.” 

 

Alec stares him down for a few seconds, then sighs in defeat, backing away from the door. “Fine, but I swear to God if he dies, I will personally bring him back from the dead myself just to kick his ass.” 

 

Raphael smiles tightly. “I would expect nothing less.” 

 

* * *

 

Magnus groans as he collapses against the wall, holding his bleeding shoulder. He has barely got even a scratch on his father and it fuels him with a furious rage. All that money he spent on lessons—all his time and energy—and he can’t even finish the one thing that he had spent his entire life waiting for. 

 

“Give it up, Magnus. This revenge plan of yours has been foolish since the start. You cannot beat me.” 

 

“You’re wrong.” Magnus grits his teeth then fights harder and faster, his father’s expression morphing into one of surprise. “Because love is not weak. Love makes us stronger.” He drives his father towards the other wall, then with one move, knocks his father’s sword out of his hands. His breathing is heavy, hair sweaty, but his hand does not tremble as he rests the sword against his father’s throat. “Offer me money.” 

 

His father nods vigorously, hands held up in surrender. “Yes, of course! You’ll have all the gold you wish.” 

 

Magnus presses the sword into his father’s throat until a drop of blood rises up. “Offer me power.” 

 

“Yes, yes,” his father says irritability, “you’ll have anything you want.” 

 

Magnus smirks then drives the sword through his father’s heart, his voice shaking as he says, “I want my mother back, you son of a bitch.” He yanks the sword out, then turns and walks away before his father’s body can even drop on the ground. His shoulder hurts and he presses against it as he opens the door and falls through it, strong arms catching him. Alec stares down at him, his eyes wide as he takes in Magnus’s appearance. 

 

“Just so you know, I’m the greatest swordsman in the fucking world,” Magnus smiles and then he passes out.

 

* * *

 

“Ow,” Magnus yelps, leaping back and sending a glare to Alec.

 

Isabelle stifles a laugh as Alec glares right back, gripping Magnus’s shoulder tight as he starts to stitch Magnus back up again. He mutters under his breath, “If you would be still, I could get this done faster.” 

 

Isabelle smiles softly as Magnus retorts back, staring between the two of them. Seeing Alec be so in tune with someone and his heart opening up? It was all she had ever wanted. Maia squeezes her hand and Isabelle turns her head slightly to see Maia beam at her, eyes lit up. Well, maybe there was something else she wanted, too. She squeezes back, not bothering to hide her laugh as Raphael takes one look at the needle and gags. 

 

Alec raises an eyebrow, finally done with stitching Magnus up. “You’re one to talk; I seem to recall that you are afraid of bunnies.” 

 

“I was nine and it  _ attacked _ me!” Isabelle insists, a flush creeping up on the back of her neck. Even though she’s embarrassed, she doesn’t mind Maia’s boisterous laugh. She would do anything she could to keep that smile on Maia’s face forever. She leans over and kisses Maia gently, smiling into the kiss. “I don’t want to wait anymore,” She whispers against her girlfriend’s lips. “Let’s get married.” 

 

Maia pulls back, her eyes wide. “Really?” 

 

Isabelle bites her lip nervously, nodding her head. “Yeah, if you want to.” 

 

“Of course I want to!” Maia wraps her arms around Isabelle tightly, knocking the breath out of her. Isabelle hugs back just as tightly, burying her face in the crook of Maia’s neck. She feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes. This was something she’d thought she would never have—a love that consumed. A love that she would live for. She looks up to see Alec smiling, waving his hands around as he talks passionately to Magnus. He notices her stare because he flicks his eyes over to her, a small smile on his face. And seeing that smile on her brother—who had fought so hard for happiness—fills her with joy.

 

* * *

 

When Maia leans in to kiss Isabelle, she is filled with an overwhelming peace.  _ This  _ is the kind of kiss she had been waiting for. Isabelle pulls back and Maia is overcome with so much love that it hurts. Isabelle’s smile reminds her of their first kiss—it feels like such a lifetime ago. She hears cheering and turns to see Magnus with a drink in hand, arm slung over Alec’s shoulders as he does a wolf whistle. Alec is swaying slightly on his feet, cheering loudly, too. Raphael rolls his eyes at the pair of them, but he nods his head at her and she nods back, a small smile on her face.

 

They jump down from the altar and walk towards them, Isabelle wrapping her arms around Alec. “Wedding on your congratulations,” he slurs at her and when Alec is distracted, Isabelle gently plucks the drink out of his hand and throws it behind her.

 

Magnus chuckles next to Maia and she smiles. Then Magnus turns to her, rubbing his fingers together nervously. “I never apologized for helping kidnap you. I’m sorry.” 

 

Maia waves a hand. “All water under the bridge. Though, there is something I’d like you to do for me.” Magnus tilts his head, listening intently and Maia takes a deep breath, then says, “I know I’m supposed to the princess or whatever, but I don’t want the crown. All I have ever wanted was to be married to Isabelle.” She looks fondly at the other woman, who is trying to tell Alec that karaoke would be a horrible idea. “I got my wish. The crown is yours if you want it.” 

 

Magnus chokes on his drink, spluttering, “Me? Are you sure?” 

 

“Yeah, I am.” Maia puts a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’d look very nice with a crown, Magnus Bane.” She makes her way to Isabelle, then turns her head to smirk at Magnus. “Besides, I think you’ve already found an armorer.” Her eyes flick to Alec. “He certainly does know how to handle a sword.” 

 

Her tone of voice drips with innuendo and Magnus chokes on his drink again, coughing so hard that Raphael has to go over there and beat on his back until Magnus pushes him off, wheezing, “I’m fine.” 

 

Maia bites back a laugh, going to stand beside Isabelle who is yanking on Alec’s shirt, begging him to come down from the altar. He begins to sing a terrible rendition of a sea shanty and Isabelle just sighs in defeat, backing away and taking Maia’s hand. “This is why I never let him drink.” 

 

Maia kisses her cheek. “Don’t you remember that time we snuck into my mother’s liquor cabinet? Isabelle, dear, you got so drunk that you yelled at a cow.” 

 

Isabelle raises a finger. “To be fair, that cow looked suspiciously like my father.” 

 

Maia laughs and the look Isabelle gives her makes her feel like she’s walking on a cloud. She can’t remember a time when Isabelle didn’t occupy her thoughts—can’t remember a time when she’s thought of anything else but kissing her. She straightens up and puts a hand on Isabelle’s cheek. “Kiss me,” she whispers.

 

“As you wish,” Isabelle’s reply is just as soft and she leans in, kissing Maia as Magnus joins Alec on the stage, their voices rising high into the night. 


End file.
